


Annie's Last Night in Town

by lullabelle



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: whoverse_las, Future Fic, Gen, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-16
Updated: 2010-12-16
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:18:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lullabelle/pseuds/lullabelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anwen Williams enjoys her freedom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Annie's Last Night in Town

**Author's Note:**

> Written for whoverse_las Prompt #10, the challenge being: "The thing about family disasters is that you never have to wait long before the next one puts the previous one into perspective." -Robert Brault. Unbeta'd.

She takes a deep breath, gathers herself, and flips open the cell. She drops her voice just a tad, the way she’s practiced, and puts on what she calls the “full Welsh.” “Hello, this is Gwen Cooper,” she says. “I’m just calling to inform you that my daughter, Anwen Williams, is feeling a bit under the weather today and won’t be attending school... yes... yes, thank you.” She smiles sweetly, even though she knows the secretary can’t see her, and hands the phone back to Jenn. She can’t use her own phone for this; given the speed with which her mother found her last time, she’s pretty sure it’s bugged. She’s leaving it at home today so it can’t be used to track her.

It’s sad, really. The end of an era. This is the last time she’ll be able to skip school so easily, at least for a while, so she’d better make it good. Her mother will be retiring in a week, meaning Anwen’s career as a latch-key child is coming to an end; ol’ owl-eyes will be watching her alllll the time from now on. She needs to get her yayas out now, as Uncle Jack would say.

She slings one arm around her friend’s shoulders. “C’mon, Jenn, let’s hit the boardwalk.”

***

“Your mom is retiring? Isn’t she only like forty-five?” Jenn asks, swinging her dad’s Maserati into a crappy parallel park job. The car isn’t the only reason Anwen likes hanging out with Jenn. Honest.

“Ish. Yeah. Her job is really high stress.”

“What does she do again?”

Anwen fixes her hair in the visor mirror and does her best to sound bored. “Hunts aliens.”

“Hah.”

Hmph. Anwen sighs. “She’s a quality auditor for the FDA.”

“Ack.” Jenn wrinkles her nose in sympathy. “No wonder.”

_Bitch, if you know what a quality auditor is I’ll eat my flip flop,_ thinks Anwen, but what she says is, “I could really go for a lemonade.”

Jenn pulls a bottle of vodka from under her seat.

***

Anwen spots a biggish guy in a t-shirt and jeans and ducks behind the park bench Jenn is lounging on until, at least until she can verify that it’s not actually her dad.

“Paranoid,” Jenn accuses.

Anwen scowls. She’s pretty sure it’s not paranoia if they’re actually after you. She plops down on the bench next to Jenn and snatches the cigarette from her fingers.

“Think Uncle Sexy is going to come find us?”

Anwen winces. “Oh god, don’t call him that.”

“Why not? He’s fiiiine.”

“He knows. And _ew._ ” She takes a long, thoughtful drag. “You know, he’s a lot older than you’d think. Seriously, he looks the same now as he did in some of my baby pictures.”

“Hm... I love a man who ages like fine wine,” Jenn ribs, reclaiming the cigarette.

Anwen huffs incredulously. “There’s no way it’s natural. His plastic surgeon must be _spectacular._ I’m surprised he can move his face.”

Jenn cackles, and Anwen lounges back, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face. She knows what Torchwood is, sort of. She knows that they’re government, that they handle weird things -- like aliens -- and that they’re a really badly kept secret. No one knows _everything_ about them, but everyone knows _something_ , and you can sort of put all the bits and pieces together to get a picture. She knows that her mother and Uncle Jack work for them, and that her father doesn’t, but he is In The Know, unlike her. Not officially anyway.

It’s become something of a game, her taking off like this. If she’s really sloppy in covering her tracks, her father will find her. It’s been a long time since her father’s been able to find her. If she does decently, it will be her mother. If she’s _really_ knocked it out of the park, then her mother will be forced to enlist the help of Uncle Jack. And when Anwen sees that handsome scowl pointed in her direction, RAF coat billowing in the wake of his bluster, she knows she’s won.

She’s aware that today’s excursion was not exactly her best effort. The boardwalk on a day as gorgeous as today is so obvious (and yet so _irresistible_ ) that she’s been waiting for her mother or, hell, even her father, to stalk up to her in that superior way of theirs, and tell her exactly what her problem is. She’s pleased as punch that it’s Jack who shows up first. Maybe she’s done better than she’s giving herself credit for.

Jenn’s actually the first one to spot him. “Hey, Uncle Sexy, two o’clock,” she says. Anwen rolls her eyes. Jack’s approaching them from five o’clock.

Sometimes Jack is difficult to read, but this is not one of these times. He looks angry, with a no-nonsensey set to his jaw. “Fancy seeing you here,” she tells him. “Looking good. As always.” 

“Anwen...”

“What?” She passes the cigarette back to Jenn. “C’mon, be my mother’s mouthpiece. In what way have a failed her today?”

Jack winces. Huh. She’s never gotten quite that reaction before.

He takes a deep breath, and she thinks maybe he’s suppressing a yell. “Annie, there’s been an accident. With your mom.”

Anwen blinks. An accident? Her mother doesn’t get hurt.

“Is she okay?” she asks. There’s a sharp and empty feeling blooming in her stomach.

Jack closes his eyes. That’s definitely a “no”, but Anwen can’t quite process it, doesn’t even know where to start. “Your father is already at the hospital. I’ll take you there.”

“Jack. Is she okay? Jack, is she going to be okay?”


End file.
